


I Guess This Must Be The Place

by never_shuts_up



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Nerds in Love, Vomiting, gratuitous movie quotes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 17:06:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13035615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/never_shuts_up/pseuds/never_shuts_up
Summary: The day after the Superstar Shake-Up, someone has to get a concussed and miserable Finn from point A to point B. Love finds a way.





	I Guess This Must Be The Place

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another drabble that went further than expected. An early Christmas gift for artemidi, who pointed out the need for it, with special thanks also due to sleeplessandcynical for all our shared headcanons that make it what it is, including the gratuitous movie quotes.
> 
> I should probably note that I was at the 2017 Superstar Shake-Up, so close that you could actually see me in the video package for the next PPV, and watched Finn's concussion happen. Weirdly, I didn't feel the need to write about it on its own (though I did include it in part of a larger thing that got shelved about a month later) until my dear Fred pointed out the need for fics about this particular circumstance. And since I've dealt with a concussed partner, as I've discussed at length on my tumblr, I knew I had to do it.
> 
> Soundtrack: [This Must Be The Place (Talking Heads cover) by Iron & Wine & Ben Bridwell. ](https://youtu.be/wFLKQIqx_XE)  
> A sweet, deliberately cliche love song for some lovers who need a little sweetness and home. It found me when I needed it.

_The less we say about it the better_  
_Make it up as we go along_  
_Feet on the ground, head in the sky_  
_It's okay, I know nothing's wrong_

“Red Leader, this is Gold Leader. Do you copy?” The voice filtered into Finn’s uneasy sleep as a hand on his shoulder gently nudged him awake.

It didn’t happen easily - his head was still ringing slightly, his limbs felt heavy and tired, and something still churned in the pit of his stomach, even though there was probably nothing left there to throw up.

Finn instinctively moved to rub his eyes, surprised to find something in the way. _Right, the glasses_ , he reminded himself. The stupid sunglasses, the darkest, biggest and ugliest and most _orange_ wraparounds that the gas station had to offer, that Seth had joked about making him look like an X-wing pilot, especially in combination with Seth’s best noise-canceling headphones. “Copy, Gold Leader,” he answered, still trying to get his bearings. Through the oversized orangey-brown lenses, it was hard to tell, but it looked like late afternoon sunlight was filtering in low through the window of the rented SUV, there were some budding trees outside, and Seth was nudging him awake.

“How you feeling?” Seth was leaning over him, looking a little bedraggled, but still the best sight he could ever have chosen to wake up to. Finn had to squint a little to see him in detail, but could make out a concerned crease between his dark eyes, and hair frizzing out around his face like a halo.

“I’ve been better.” Finn moved to sit up, gingerly, but the sudden movement was just a little bit too much, and the car interior around him began to shift nauseatingly, making his heart pound, and he had to close his eyes to will it to stop.

“Whoa, easy there.” Strong hands eased him back down to the seat. “You gotta take it slow, babe, or you’ll make yourself sick again.” Finn took a deep breath and tried to focus on the things he could feel - the leather seat beneath him, the unseasonably warm breeze through the open door, Seth’s hands on his shoulders, which way was up and which was down - and the sensation passed. He could only remember the drive in bits and pieces: New York traffic, jumpy stop-and-go for what felt like hours, shutting his eyes tight when everything was too bright and too fast and too close and out of control, giving up on any idea of sitting in the passenger seat after the entire contents of his stomach decided to rebel somewhere on some godforsaken Long Island highway. Seth had pulled over, gotten out, held onto him the entire time, rubbing small circles into his back, kissed him on the forehead and pressed a bottle of some electrolyte drink or other into his hand. After that, the backseat had seemed the safer option, with the headphones and Seth’s folded-up sweatshirt, smelling comforting and familiar, under his head. The state of his head notwithstanding, it probably would have been a miserable drive anyway, especially on so little sleep. From the look of him, Seth wasn’t taking it particularly well either, but he was clearly trying to cover that up.

“Feckin’ hell... I’m all right, I just need a minute. Sorry.” Finn muttered the words into his interlocked hands, feeling his cheeks heat up with embarrassment and trying to gather himself enough to get up again.

Before he realized it, Seth’s arms were closed around him with a fierce and gentle intensity, face buried in the side of his neck, hair softly tickling his cheek. “Don’t you be sorry. Don’t you _dare_ be sorry.” Seth’s voice sounded close to breaking. The sweet weight of Seth’s chest leaning on his prompted Finn to wrap his arms around him as well. It didn’t matter where they were, or if anyone in this stupid parking lot wherever-the-hell they were could see them, he had the one loving, solid presence that mattered right now and didn’t want to let go. Didn’t want to let go until Seth inhaled sharply and shifted position a little, and Finn realized that being all folded up on the floor of the backseat probably wasn’t doing his bad knee any favors. Seth eased himself up off the floor to sit on the edge of the seat, even though there was still almost no room for his legs anyway.

“You never, ever need to be sorry for something like this. I was so, so fucking worried about you and the important thing is that you’re going to be fine. Jinder’s really lucky he’s going to Smackdown as of tomorrow though, because if he wasn’t I’d rip him in half.” The cracks in Seth’s voice were growing deeper by the word, even as he tried to steady himself, and Finn wondered if he didn’t hear a tinge of guilt in his voice, and if that anger wasn’t a direct repetition of how angry he was at himself after Summerslam, since he knew intimately how Seth had ripped himself apart in a thousand different ways after their match, after his injury and everything that followed.

“Lucky him, then.” Finn eased himself up to lean on one arm and paused there, willing his sense of equilibrium to behave. Seth leaned in and slowly shifted him the rest of the way up to a seated position, and kissed him, softly, on the cheek. “Or, you know, lucky me, if we’re going to make out here like teenagers at Lover’s Lane or whatever the hell the cliche is.” Finn managed what he hoped was a devilishly flirtatious grin, but it felt more like a wan half-smile. Regardless, he leaned in and kissed Seth back, on the lips this time, hoping against hope that his own lips didn’t still taste like regurgitated protein shake. His fears were quickly allayed, since Seth didn’t seem in any hurry to stop.

“I’m lucky I can be with you right now.” Seth regarded Finn with eyes that looked a little wet, then pulled away to reach one hand into his back pocket. “Ever since last night I’ve been convinced that I’m just bad luck to everyone around me. But here - look at this.”

Seth pulled out his phone and opened the messages. The first was, apparently, from “Ron,” and read “Who let the Dogs out? Ah yessir!” Attached was a selfie of Roman, looking pale and tired, with an ugly purple bruise on one cheekbone, an ugly gash closed by steri-strips on his forehead, a layer of white bandages peeking out from under his tank top, and an impossibly huge smile, flanked by an also-smiling Dean and R-Truth. They were leaning against a car, in what looked like a parking garage.  And then Finn remembered - he wasn’t the only one whose night had been hell. Remorse hit him like a wave, and he turned to look at Seth, who he realized then looked absolutely exhausted, tangle-haired and bleary-eyed. He probably hadn’t slept more than minutes himself, in some nasty waiting room, and then taken over all the responsibilities of getting Finn here, including that awful drive. A warm surge of gratitude rose from Finn’s chest, and he clung to Seth tightly, hands clutching the back of his T-shirt. “You’re not bad luck, love,” he murmured into the side of Seth’s neck, leaving a small kiss there for good measure. “You’re what it takes to survive bad luck.”

“I could handle all the bad luck in the world if it meant I could still have you.” Seth gave Finn one more squeeze, then pulled away, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of one hand. “So, we’re going to go make ourselves comfortable and order food - which I know you need because you left everything else you ate on the side of the Cross Island - and tell the entire rest of the world to go fuck itself until sometime tomorrow when we get to annoy the shit out of the powers that be to work out a schedule that will actually let you rest, and let me stay with you as long as I can. I’ve got us checked in and everything, the room’s not even that far, but no matter what you do, don’t look at the carpet.” He shifted himself towards the car door and moved to get out, Finn slowly following him.

“Why’s that?” Finn eased himself up to stand. Even though everything still felt a bit weird, most of his surroundings were staying put. So far, so good.

“You’ve been all disoriented already, trust me, you don’t wanna make it worse. That thing is a one way ticket back to Puke City.” Seth extended his hand.

Finn managed a weak laugh, in spite of himself. Glancing around the parking lot to make sure nobody was watching, and finding nobody there, he reached out to take Seth’s hand. Emboldened by the empty lot, he decided to go a step farther, and put his arm around Seth’s waist instead. He was rewarded in kind, by Seth’s arm draped across his shoulders. “I’ll take your word for it, love.”

They made their way across the parking lot, toward the side door. The sun was sinking lower, and even the stupid sunglasses didn’t cancel out all the glare, but a warm breeze ruffled their hair, and the air smelled like early spring grass and freshly turned earth. Keeping everything in focus was tricky, but it got easier with Seth’s arm as a lifeline and the slow pace of his steps as a guide, and while part of Finn wanted to protest that he wasn’t made of glass and could probably handle it himself, he reflected that he’d never felt more safer or more protected in his life.

Seth broke the silence as they reached the door. “I’ll have to text Bayley, she’ll be wondering if we got here all right.”

“Of course, since she was at the hospital, ‘n all that. I’m sure she’s been worried.” A thought struck Finn, and he stopped, and regarded Seth’s face with a quizzical and slightly worried expression. “Does she know?”

Seth squeezed Finn’s arm, gently. “Even if she hadn’t asked, I think she would have guessed it.” An embarrassed half-smile, half-cringe twisted its way across his face, and despite the glasses, Finn could see his cheeks color up by a few shades. “I might have been… a little bit of a mess.”

Knowing Seth, this was likely to be the understatement of the year. Possibly the decade. Now Finn’s laugh was full and genuine. “Who, you? Surely not!”

 _Oh! I got plenty of time_  
_Oh! You got light in your eyes_  
_And you're standing here beside me_  
_I love the passing of time_  

Later that night, even after some mediocre take-out and several podcast episodes and shoulder rubs in the darkened hotel room, sleep was still hard to come by. Finn’s head and neck still hurt, even if it was less than before, and despite feeling mind-numbingly exhausted he couldn’t seem to stay asleep for more than minutes at a time. Finding a comfortable position for the two of them was a challenge, but as they lay together, curled around each other on cool cotton sheets in the soft cocoon of dark, listening to the same “Go the Fuck to Sleep” playlist on repeat for the second or third time - _what was it called, chillwave or vaporwave or something?_ \- Finn couldn’t help but be grateful. Every time he woke, it was to a face that never failed to make him feel at least a little better. In the dim light from the alarm clock, he could see Seth was finally sleeping, dark lashes casting shadows on his cheeks, hair in soft disarray. Right now, with how tiring and disorienting it was to do literally anything else, the bed was a lifeboat on a vast and chaotic ocean, and it was the only boat he would ever need.

Finn snuggled up closer, idly tracing a finger along Seth’s jaw and whispering “I love you” before closing his eyes again. As he did, he caught a glimpse of Seth’s eyelids fluttering a little, and crinkling at the corners. “Gayyyyy,” Seth mumbled with a lazy smile, as he pulled Finn close against his chest, and for a time, they both slept.

 _Home, is where I want to be_  
_But I guess I'm already there_  
_I come home, she lifted up her wings_  
_I guess that this must be the place_

 


End file.
